I am sp lin|tering granite
but I promise you
I promise you
[can still use me]
There’s a beating heart
buried in my chest
pumping
-LM
Vigorously wiping the tears
from lack of sleep
& late conversations
out of my eyes
To an alarm reading
RETURN HOME—-
–LM
[These cats have been staring into my soul like an hourglass, waiting for the last grain of sand to fall… maybe I’m missing out]
In another world the columbarium
wasn’t real
in that game it was just
another quest …
yet| as we all stood in a line|
looking up at a wall of
closed tombs &
golden plaques
old enough to be
nearly illegible
It became sentient without the glow
[of objective]°
as soon as
they lifted the champagne casket
& you and your single white rose
with it… within.
–LM
[Authors Note: resplendent in unknown suspension, the greatest story the teller ever told was your legacy]
the stone is calling us both
& the flight was a great success
sitting up front with a window seat
an empty row
|close| …
almost celebrity
I spoke to you the entire time
gentle chatter inside my mind
I felt the weight lift
under orange sorbet clouds
but I know as the curtain is drawn
this show’s just begun
–LM
authors note: photo from my morning flight
Her platinum anklet chain rattles
yet the bed splinters below
no fear no fault no guff
these things / replaced tomorrow
There were studs on her garters
leaving shining imprints
the way your hands might
if you used them correctly
I wonder if, ten seconds before
you dove in/ your heart might hold
too?
–LM
I glimpse these hues
dark umber, taupe and ash
shadows on my photograph
whisk across your face
people say, mine does not age
but. [I am always changing]
I have to be at the airport
in two hours
fuck
insomnia
anxiety
grief
me
blue|screen
restart
Dark umber, taupe and ash
shadows on my photograph
splash across your face
people say, mine does not age
but. [I am always changing]
I have to be at the airport
in two hours
fuck
insomnia
anxiety
grief
& mediocrity
–LM
blue|screen
she’s wearing a top hat
a black waistcoat
& cufflinks but
I don’t know if she’s fashionable
or androsphinx
all I want
to know is who wore her
pinstripes to tatters
& who freed those waves
from pins and elastic
looking up while
she glares eagerly overhead &
|DOWN
–LM
I’m starting to believe
the light-green luna
moth I saw might’ve been
a pretty glitch
in this buttoned-up matrix
or
a flashy sign…
Who knows, who knows
I’ve got a thousand things
in mind &
Yes, dear, you’ve got the evidence:
[It’s been a hell of a week]
I swear I’ve ripped my skin
to shreds
|feels like an old pastime
has arrived for a few
I never got a memo
then again I never checked
the fucked up schedule
& now I’m on the hunt
again》for you
–LM
Thick black frost
between my teeth
under my nails and
rifling through my lungs
I’m starting to think
it’s not frost
but tar
A built-up
malignancy
Ink; maybe|
–LM
The Lexicon 
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